


Lachrymose

by EtherealNoir



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Multiple Timelines, Pre-Core memories, Sans is a wreck, This is going to be mostly angst, but some fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5619781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtherealNoir/pseuds/EtherealNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You really should stop trying to bring him back; it's getting boring watching you fail over and over. Don't you get it? He doesn't even remember you! I mean, how stupid can you be?"<br/>Hissing laughter.</p>
<p>A piercing, sarcastic grin. Placidity and nonchalance was a reflex.<br/>"you're wrong."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sans gasps awake. It wasn't a dream. It was never a dream. But then again, he couldn't tell anymore. A polished memory was a novelty in his world. 

It was like shattering glass. A million pinpricks. A distant melody. It was strung together with uncertainty and melancholy steps. The same bed. The same sheets.

Welcome to never ending consciousness. 

No, he welcomes it. He knows what will be presented -- it's easier to pretend the wounds aren't there when they're acknowledged. 

He falls into the same motions. He stands awake, but his mind is filled with grating static. Another timeline. Another weight to balance on his tired shoulders. 

The same jokes. The same plastic smiles. He waits for freedom or for death. 

Either is welcome, but neither is ever permanent. 

The static winks to a shuttering close.  
(Reset)


	2. Chapter 2

A few mundane days crawl by. No sign of the inevitable human.

Breathe.

Sans decides to visit the laboratory behind the house. He switches on the flickering light, which illuminates the layer of dust and cobwebs that clings to most every surface.

Was he willing to wipe it all clean? Did he have the strength to accept failure yet again?

For Gaster, most certainly.

Sans chases wavering hopes and dreams from his mind. They have no place in such desolate territory. But maybe -- just maybe -- this time would be different. He can't help but dwell on the rise and fall of his breathing, on the mechanical desire to save the one person who understood him.

It was arbitrary, really. Any attempt to deny his need to work on The Machine would be met with opposing arguments.

Push, pull. Gravity always centers.

Oh how he wanted to tether himself to reality, to a tangible substance made of promises and hard work. How deeply he longed for a firm grip on something other than his own lonely thoughts.

How he missed Gaster's gentle touch...

(Memories wash ashore)

_"i don't know about this..." A lowercase voice wavers uncharacteristically._

_"It is merely a test run, is it not? I have faith that this will be an overwhelming success!" A warm, excited smile. "From here on, we can progress even further!"_

_"but gaster, i just... are you sure we should be messing with this temporal stuff? i have a bad feeling about it now."_

_"My dear Sans, whatever are you worrying for? Have you no faith in me?"_

_"of course i have faith in you. i just -- don't want anything to happen to you."_

_"...Sans."_

_The taller scientist puts his hands on the other's shoulders._

_"It is going to be okay. I promise. I've run the numbers countless times. We are closer than ever to discovering what lies behind the fabric of spacetime! Does this not excite you?"_

_"gaster, you know better than anyone that i've pored my heart and soul into building this machine. i'm just not quite sure i have enough faith in myself..."_

_"Oh hush now," A soothing, affable whisper. Arms move to caress the small, nervous skeleton in a firm hug. "You have been my most brilliant, studious assistant. I could not ask for a better companion throughout these few years."_

_"really?" A genuine question._

_"Most certainly."_

_A simple kiss on the forehead. A subtle shiver. Sans looks up, only to lock eyes with Gaster. A sudden knowing -- a sudden acceptance -- it flashes between them like electricity. Enough time had been spent collecting sly smiles and playful winks. Years of slight teases and not so well hidden implications, it was always played off as harmless banter._

_No longer. The unmentioned is often the most obvious._

_Gaster leans down ever so slightly, trepidation faltering his movement. Sans's expression melts into a confirming smile._

_A much needed kiss seals the centimeters between them. It starts unsure and clunky, however hastily evanesces into something needful and carnal. Sans can't help letting an unrestrained moan spill into the other's mouth._

_They part soon after, breathing heatedly._

_Contentment._

_"well, i wasn't expecting to be scien'kissed'." Sans winks, his confidence seemingly restored._

_Gaster laughs, and it resonates in Sans's head like a warm vibration. He loved that sound._

_At least someone always appreciated his brand of humor._

(xxx)

Sans has his vision trained on blueprints, reading them for the nth time that day; thinking he had missed something, thinking he had accidentally skipped an important note.

Of course, every word was all too familiar.

He pressed his metacarpals to his eye sockets, pushing back building tears. No, no, no. Emotion isn't part of the equation. This isn't written in the research.

Flee, flee, flee.

His bedroom door slams behind him, echoing throughout the empty house. Papyrus's absence was, for the first time in his life, appreciated. He had to hide, push this below the swelling surface. Not even his beloved brother can know.

It's an anxiety only he should bear.

He nearly hoped for a Reset, for it to all be flushed away in a hazy blur -- only to resurface when prompted. He needed a break, however slight.

Oh God, how he wished he could have Reset to before he built that damn machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the flashbacks that Sans experiences aren't going to be in chronological order, sorry. It's for the sake of pacing.  
> (Also I punched myself in the face for that pun so you don't have to)


End file.
